A Night At The Kershaw: The Diary
by Lady Kerby
Summary: Lizzie has just endured the biggest trial of her life, being beaten nearly to death by Tom. Now she must heal, and finally learn the truths of her past, and her connections with Reddington. Can she remember and come to accept what Reddington has to tell her?
1. Chapter 1

" _Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?"_ Noah Calhoun

She sat in the armchair, looking out of the oversized windows upon the snow-covered mountains. She shivered slightly from the cold she could feel coming from the windows, pulling her sweater tightly around her. A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Good morning Miss M, how did you sleep last night?" the chipper nurse greeted her.

The nurse was middle aged, and the pigmentation of her skin mimicked that of a dark roast coffee bean. Her ebony hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her crisp nursing dress swooshed as she walked towards her, and her pristine white shoes squeaked slightly against the tile floor.

"I guess it was okay." She responded hesitantly. "I am in a great deal of pain though."

"That's alright honey, Nurse Faye is here with your pills to help with that pain."

Faye reached out to her and placed the cup into her hands then the water. She took the pills, their amount and textures scraping across the back of her throat like sandpaper, the water a welcomed comfort as it followed the intruders.

"Thank you Faye." She said handing the cups back to the nurse.

"Miss M we need to get you up and moving around today. Your physical therapist has personally put me in charge of making sure you don't sit in this chair all day."

"I don't know about that Faye. I think I'm fine right here." She fought back.

She had no motivation to move around. She wanted to sit at the window and gaze upon the whiteness of the landscape. It was all she could recall. Everyone would call her _Miss M_ , but who was Miss M? _Who am I? Why am I here? Where is here?_ All she could remember was waking up in a hospital bed in the most pain she had ever been in, or that she could remember being in. She would look in the mirror and see the discoloration of bruises on her face and body, with no idea how they got there. There was a small portion of hair that had been shaved of, it was beginning to grow back, where she was told a tube had been there previously.

"Miss M you need to …" two men walking through the door cut off the nurse's words.

"Good morning Faye." An older man sat a bag on table, removed his hat and set it on top. He walked up to the nurse and placed a kiss on her cheek. He was exquisitely dressed in a dark grey suit with a navy blue printed tie. She watched as he removed his black leather gloves, tucking them into the pockets of his heavy overcoat, that he removed, and draped it over the chair adjacent to hers.

He bent down and looked at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers, as if he was gazing upon her soul.

"Good morning sweetheart," she heard him say. "And how are you feeling today?"

"She said she was in a great deal of pain this morning." Faye responded to the older man. "She doesn't want to get out and around. I'm not sure she's up to anything."

"I think I might be able to change her mind." He said, as he motioned to his companion. "Grab the book from my bag please." The other man who had been standing motionless in the shadows could have easily been Nurse Faye's brother perhaps, he was as dark as she was, and until that moment, he'd gone unnoticed. He was tall, close to her age and dressed all in black. He handed the older man a red leather book with gold gilded pages.

"How about a walk to the conservatory. I will read to you, we can pick up where we left off," he offered.

"Oh, I don't know. I kind of like it here." She responded, feeling like a broken record, repeating the same words over and over to everyone.

"You will like his story Miss M. He is quite funny. I will come get you for your meals." The nurse urged.

"Alright then. I guess, for a bit." She stood up and slipped on her shoes from the side of her bed.

The older man held out his arm and led her down the long hallway towards the common room, past the parlor and into the sunlit conservatory. The flowering plants had all but died since the most recent freeze, and she wondered if she would see them bloom in the spring. The others were still vibrant shades of green despite the cold. The little conservatory was just warm enough to take the chill off the room, from the towering windows that made up their walls. He sat her down on a small wicker settee and took the neighboring chair.

"Where did we leave off yesterday?" he asked, thumbing through the pages. "I remember, the ballet studio." He pulled his glasses from inside his suit pocket and began to read.

She felt herself relax into the cushions of the settee, his voice calming to her. As if she'd heard it before. She listened to his story; quite sure she hadn't heard it, but it perked her curiosity the longer he read.


	2. Elise La Blanc

The sun was just peaking over the horizon, its shining rays painting the old brick that covered the exterior walls of the Russian ballet school, nestled within the countryside away from the hustle and bustle of the city. The ladies were getting dressed for the day as the headmistress walked into the small dormitory where the most senior dancers resided. She tapped loudly on the old hard wood floor with her cane to grab their attention.

"Vnimaniye!"

The girls fell silent, motionless like mannequins.

"Today is a special day, as you will have the opportunity to show all that you've learned while your time has been spent here at _Elise La Blanc_. In two hours we will be hosting five of the top scouts from around the world." Audible gasps were heard throughout the group of girls. The headmistress tapped the floor again before continuing, "In the past, at least three of our prized danseuses go on to work with the most prestigious production companies. The ten of you in this room are the elite, and I expect absolute perfection from each and every one of you. I know certain girls here will far surpass the rest of you, and failure will earn you a one-way ticket to the streets. See Isaak for your numbers, and get to the stage for warm ups!" She left the dormitory slamming the door behind her, as the girls scrambled to gather the rest of their things and head downstairs.

"Can you believe it?! This could be our chance to break out. Who do you think will be here?" Nika whispered to one of the other dancers. The girl smiled, trying to hide her excitement. "I can only imagine who might be here. I think I would like to go to the states perhaps, anyplace than this cold chunk of land," she chuckled.

The ladies made their way down the winding staircase to the stage, where Isaak Rostova, sat at his table with the stack of audition numbers. The girls pinned their fate to their leotards and began their warm up exercises. The headmistress sat perched upon her stool at the apron of the sage, cane in hand providing the tempo and directions, or criticism rather.

"Nika! Net net net! Ostanovit' seychas!" She screamed. "Ladies, this is the most important day of your career. Are you going to throw it all away?! Nika! If you keep this up, I will remove you from this group immediately! Anfisa, the same goes for you!" She stepped down from her stool, "First positions!" she barked. "I am not afraid to throw any of you out of this audition! And out of this school! I reserve the best for these men, and I take personal insult when you slack!"

The ladies obeyed, as the headmistress walked by, examining each of them. She jabbed her cane into the legs and backs of the girls who were not in perfect form.

"My little _Lottie_ , come forward," her voice softer now.

A young ballerina walked downstage and stood before the rest of the dancers.

"Now, your audition will consist of performing a snippet from act one, scene two of _Swan Lake_. The scouts want to see form and fluidity. My dear, you have been _Odette_ in the past, please demonstrate what I, as well as the scouts would like to see." She paused, her tone changing as she turned to address the rest of the group, scorn dripping from every last word "Ladies, pay attention to what perfection looks like."

The Ballerina, while stone cold on the exterior was slightly embarrassed from being picked out from the rest. As she stood in first position and waited for the headmistress to provide the tempo, she tried to calm her nerves and took several deep calming breaths before she began; thoughts racing through her mind. _Of all the acts to choose, why this one? I always hated this act. If you missed one measure, the whole scene would be a mess. Although, it truly is the best example for them to see our form and poise. I hope that I can impress the agents enough to move away from here. I want nothing more than to finally have a place to call home, and get as far away from Constantin as possible. I do wish Madam would not use me as the example. Despite what she has said, there must be girls better than myself._

Just as she finished, the representatives began to enter and walk to the front of the house, finding their seats. The headmistress ushered the young dancer back into the group and turned to face their guests.

"Dobroye utro dzhentel'mery," she greeted. "We would like to welcome you to _The Elise La Blanc School of Ballet_ today. Before you we have the best and the brightest dancers you could ever expect to see. We will begin with a group number then, each solo audition."

The group danced, and then each number was called. _Lottie_ felt like her heart would beat straight from her chest. She looked out at the men from the wings of the stage. One, though, stuck out to her, as he appeared to be the youngest out of all them. He couldn't have been much older than she was, but from where she was standing, he appeared to be better dressed than the other men. He sat separate from the crowd as well, off to one side and several rows back. She was lost in thought and almost missed her cue. She came center stage and danced like her life depended on it. She knew if she wasn't chosen, she would be sent off to work as a _sekretarja,_ or secretary, to some rich business owner. The beautiful dancers would be the first "shipped" out. She had heard stories of women who would be raped, and later killed if they didn't do as their employers told them to. In reality it was no different than the way Constantin treated many of the dancers he attached himself to. _There he is,_ she thought to herself. _He's the one who will take me away from here. I just know it._

 _Lottie_ was the last to perform and the girls stood, facing their audience, waiting patiently for their directions. Each of the scouts went through their notes with the headmistress, pointing and asking quiet questions. They would walk down the line of girls examining each one like a dress in a store window. _Lottie_ watched as each of them left one by one, leaving the mystery man alone. She watched him stand, and he grabbed his hat from the chair next to him. He sauntered to the stairs and was met with much admiration from the headmistress.

"Raymond! Moy drug!"

"Anastasiya!" The pair exchanged customary cheek kisses, and then continued their conversation. "It has been far too long my dear. You have quite the group of girls this year." Raymond looked at each of the girls, walking down the line, stopping in front of number "27".

" _Lottie_ you may stay, the rest of you back to the dormitories!" Anastasiya barked. As the girls left the stage _Lottie_ remained motionless, as stiff as a statue.

"Anastasiya, I see you have used my number to direct me to your most prized student." Raymond looked back at the ballerina. "My dear, what is your name?" he inquired.

"Katarina, sir. Katarina Rostova." she responded just above a whisper. She was trying to study the man standing before her. He was exquisitely dressed in a handsome three-piece suit, chocolate brown in color with a coordinating patterned tie. He looked like he had just stepped out of a high-end clothing store window. Not a piece out of place, not even a wrinkle on his pants; his matte blue-grey eyes piercing her straight to the core. His cologne was intoxicating; she'd never smelled anything that good. It was woody, but spicy, and she swore she could smell rum and jasmine.

"Katarina... from the Greek, meaning chaste and pure; a perfect description of your movement and grace, not to mention your breathtakingly deep blue eyes are simply, radiant. I feel as though I could swim in their beauty for days. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Raymond Reddington," he said bowing. "I think she will be perfect for _Swan Lake_ Anastasiya." He turned from Katarina to the headmistress. "How soon can we arrange her VISA and travel?" he asked.

A small gasp slipped from the ballerina's lips. She could feel her face begin to burn from the arousal she felt from his words, and now he was telling her she was to travel with him.

" _Lottie,_ you have just been offered an opportunity of a lifetime. Raymond is one of the most prestigious producers in all of the United States. His girls are treated like royalty and you will never be left wanting." The mistress responded.

"Will you accept my offer to become one of my ballerinas Miss Rostova?" Raymond asked.

She blushed. "Of course, however, I don't feel I am anything special sir. I'm sure there are other girls more qualified than myself."

"Oh I think you are very special." he smiled.

"Well, we will have to discuss the matter with Constantin, but I'm sure as always the transition should be smooth." Anastasiya replied.

"Fantastic. Is he in his office?" Raymond said.

"Yes, I shall take you to him." The headmistress turned to Katarina. " _Lottie_ you may return to the dormitories. Please be sure to let your husband know of the results."

Raymond stopped mid step, "Husband? She is married?"

"Oh my, yes. I quite forgot. Katarina came to us already betrothed. Her husband is the stage manager. I do hope that will not complicate the matter Raymond." she replied.

"I don't see why it would. Let us speak with Constantin." The pair left the stage and Katarina was left alone to absorb all that had transpired. _He chose me. The one I knew would rescue me did. I can't wait to see what is in store for me in the states._ She headed towards the stage manager's office to find Isaak.

"Isaak! My love! I was chosen!" She tried not to scream to loudly, as she didn't want the other girls to hear.

"Mishka, that's wonderful. Where will we be going?" Isaak asked hugging her.

"The United States! I was so hoping for the US. I cannot wait my dear. The man is speaking to Constantin right now."

"Return to the dormitories. I will see you at supper." he said planting a kiss on her forehead.

Katarina returned to the dorm. Before entering she composed her excitement and walked in with the straightest face she could muster. She changed and left again for the dining hall. She hoped that the transition would be swift. The last thing she wanted was for the other girls to know she had been chosen. They would belittle her, knowing that she was Anastasiya's favorite student. Constantin, alone, had put her through hell and back; the last thing she wanted to deal with before leaving was the ridicule of her classmates.

Notes:

Russian Translations:  
Vnimaniye - Attention  
Net net net! Ostanovit' seychas! - No no no! Stop now!  
Dobroye utro dzhentel'mery - Good morning gentlemen  
Moy drug - My friend (loosely)


	3. Constantin

**WARNINGS** NON CON - There is some physical harm towards women from men, no actual rape here, but if you are sensitive to this, you may want to skip this chapter.

Summary: Reddington meets with Constantin to set Katarina's affairs in order. Constantin is not happy to hear of who Redding has chosen to take with him this year, as Katarina means a bit more to him than Red realized. Will this stop Red from getting what he wants?

Anastasiya knocked on the office door before entering. "Constantin, Mr. Reddington is here to see you."

"Send him in," he said.

Constantin met Raymond with a hardy handshake, motioning him to sit. He was a several years older than Red, not as well dressed or as clean-shaven as Red, but still professionally clothed in a simple business suit and tie. "Raymond, my old friend. Have you come to tell me of another girl you wish to whisk away from my school?"

"I look for the best Constantin, and I know where to find it every time." Raymond chuckled.

Constantin walked to the wet bar pouring Raymond and himself glasses of scotch. "And who is the lucky lady Red? Nika? Or perhaps Anfisa? No, no, no. I know it must be Viktoriya! Shall I get her VISA started?"

Red accepted the glass of amber liquid. "None of them actually." he responded taking the first swig.

"Oh? Who might have caught your attention? Those are my top girls from what Anastasiya tells me."

"I would like to have Katarina Rostova. How soon can we arrange her travel to the states?" Red replied smiling.

Constantin barely refrained from spitting his drink across his desk at his friend. "I beg your pardon? Who?"

"Katarina Rostova. I realize that she is betrothed to your stage manager, so of course I would be taking him as well. I can send you over one of the best stage managers I know if that would make this easier." Red offered.

"Katarina, I'm afraid is not available to go. Her… talents are needed here." Constantin said firmly, shaking his head.

Red gave his friend an inquisitive look, biting the inside of his cheek slightly, realizing that this was going to be a harder negotiation that usual. "What 'talents' would those be?" Red had been in the business long enough to know the art of negation. While he may have been young, one of the youngest in the business, being only eighteen when he produced his first hit show; Red had learned many things in the last several years.

"Let's just say, she and I have a 'history' together and I would like her to stay right here. It's as simple as that Raymond."

Red quickly put the pieces together. "So you are saying that you have had an affair with this woman. Is her husband aware of this situation?" He'd known of Constantin's affairs with girls in the past. It was no secret. He heard rumors from the dancers he had acquired in previous years from Constantin. He sickened him to the core.

"I haven't the slightest, and to be honest I really don't care one way or another. Isaak is not the smartest man. I could have my way with her right under his nose and he would still deny it happened." Constantin's voice was becoming angrier.

"I am looking out for the best interest of the dancers Constantin. This is the girl that I want, I to be frank, I _always_ get what I want." Red said confidently. "This is no way to be treating these girls either Constantin. This is wrong on too many levels."

"We are of the same mold Raymond, as I get what I want as well. My final answer is no. She is not available to you, or to anyone for that matter. In fact, I believe our time here is done. I don't take kindly to criticism on how to deal with my dancers from anyone, especially someone like you. I will not be extending my invitation for your services any longer. Have a wonderful trip back to the states Raymond." Constantin stood from his chair and escorted Red out, slamming the door.

Anastasiya was standing nearby and looked at Red. "Raymond, I heard what he said. If Katarina is whom you want, then she is whom you will have. I had no idea the affair was still occurring. I have known of some affairs with previous girls, and that's why I have gotten them as far away from as I can. If what he says is true, I wish to see her leave here as soon as possible. She is a very sweet girl, and I want her to be safe, away from that monster. I wish only the best for her."

"I know Anastasiya. I have known Constantin for some time, and he has... a way... with women. He doesn't take no for an answer." Red chuckled, "And neither do I. I will take care of the VISA on my end. I will call you personally when everything is in order; please have her and her husband ready when I call. In the meantime I will be staying at the Baltschug Kempinski in Moscow if you need me." Red placed a kiss on Anastasiya's temple, "Thank you my dear, as always." He left as Constantin bellowed for Anastasiya.

"Anastasiya, call Miss Rostova to see me immediately!" he barked through the door.

"Right away," she obeyed.

Within a few minutes Katarina was knocking on the office door. "You wished to see me Sir."

"My dear, please take a seat. Would you like a drink?" he offered.

"No thank you, Sir."

"Well then, I hear that you have had quite the eventful day: auditions, an offer to travel to the states. I would say that has been exciting," he mocked.

Katarina could feel the excitement building again as he replayed the day's events. "Yes sir. It has been very exciting."

"Well, I hate to the bearer of bad news, but you are not going anywhere. My dear your… talents… are better spent here with me."

Her heart sank at his words. She had hoped that the sexual favors had finally stopped. She had told Isaak in confidence, and swore him not to tell a soul, nor seek revenge upon the man, as this was their livelihood. If it had not been for being accepted into the ballet school, they would surely have been homeless by now. Isaak was working as the stage manager, and helped her gain acceptance into the school, knowing how much she wanted to be a ballerina. They were engaged to be married when she began classes, and eloped one night in the hopes that the abuse would stop. But now, it felt as though she would be stuck in this hell forever. She looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with the monster before her.

"Look at me darling. Don't you like your arrangements here, because I'm sure I can let you go, back to the gutter that is, despite how magnificent of a dancer you are." She refused to look up and he grabbed her chin forcing her head up. "I'm already not happy with the stunt you pulled with Isaak. You honestly thought that by marrying him it would stop me from taking what I want?" He scoffed at her. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I married him, because I love him," she said barely above a whisper.

"What do you know of love? You know nothing of love, or life." He pulled up from her chair, pinning her arm behind her back and leaning her over his desk. "Come now Katarina. You can't deny the pleasure I bring to you when I… have my way with you." He grabbed her breast with his other hand and she let out a shriek. "Shh, my pet, none of that now.

"Stop it! I hate you. I don't want to be here any longer. LET ME GO!" She took her foot and ground it into his, forcing him off of her. She tried to get away, but he grabbed her arm and slammed her into the wall next to the door. She felt as if her face was going to explode.

"You will not leave Katarina! You are mine!"

He spun her around, pinning her hands above her head, his body forcing her against the wall. He ripped her gauzy blouse in half exposing her breasts with his other hand. He kissed and bit her chest hard, as a lion would mark his mate. As his head came up, she managed to get enough leverage to slam her head into his, knocking him backwards. As he stumbled, she landed a kick to his genitals forcing him to the ground in writhing pain. She swung the door open and ran down the hallway.

She raced down the spiral staircase and to Isaak. "Isaak help! It's Constantin again. He tired…" she fell into his arms in tears. Just then Anastasiya came around the corner.

"What in the world happened _Lottie_?" she asked in a panic.

"It's… he tried to…" Katarina tried to speak between sobs.

"That's it. I have had enough of this." Anastasiya removed her sweatshirt and handed to Katarina. "Isaak, I want the two of you to leave NOW! Here is the address to a hotel. When you get there ask for Mr. Reddington. He will take care of the rest. He will keep you both safe. I may lose my job, and even my life for this, but I have had enough with Constantin and his ways. Go NOW!" Anastasiya rushed the two out the back door.


	4. Anger Kills

Five years had come and gone. The girls were inseparable and would play for hours in the wings of the stage during rehearsals, running through the costumes and playing with the props. Kate had left Isaak more in charge during shows, which allowed her to deal with more of Red's extracurricular activities, becoming more of an assistant than that of a stage manager. It was a frigid winter morning when Isaak received an anonymous phone call.

"Isaak, this is _*static*_. I'm at the theatre, there's an issue with _*static*_." The line went dead. Isaak got up from where he was sitting, kissed Masha and Katarina on their heads and left for the theatre. Due to the most recent snowstorm, the theatre would be closed for the next few days, and he wondered who would have been there to begin with. Upon arrival, he noticed there were no cars in the parking lot, and the front doors were locked, as they should have been. He trenched to the back of the building and found one of the receiving doors ajar. He cautiously walked in, and saw a single chair in the middle of the stage with the spotlight highlighting it. As he walked up to the electrical panel to turn more lights on, his hand was almost to the switch when he was met with a massive blow to the back of his head, leaving him in complete darkness. When he woke from his unexpected slumber he found he was tied to the chair he'd seen as he came in; now with a table in front of him as well as another chair. From the wings, Constantin came walking across the stage to the table.

"Privet Isaak, so nice of you to join our little party today. I see you received my phone call." He sat across from Isaak, a large brown envelope in his hand.

"What do you want Constantin? What are you even doing here? Can't you leave us well enough alone?" Isaak spat.

"Isaak, Isaak, Isaak. I am here to help you." he replied.

"HELP me? I don't need your help Constantin! Po'shyol 'na hui!" Isaak yelled, then spat in Constantin's face.

Constantin reached across and slapped Isaak across the face, then taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the spittle from his cheek. "Wake up man, don't you see it. I'm here to expose the lies and deception your wife has been spouting to you." he chuckled. "Please tell me you are not as dumb as I thought you once were."

Isaak looked up in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about you bastard? She hasn't been deceiving me. You are mad!" he scoffed at the old man.

"Oh really. How can you be so sure?" he paused, attempting to choose his words carefully, or not so in the end. "Does she look at Raymond differently that she does you? Perhaps speak of him in a lascivious manner, with lust in her eyes. Will she spend more time at the theatre, with him, instead of coming home to you? How many gifts has he purchased for her? Does she have the same excitement for your gifts as she does his?" his words were cut of.

"Net! NET! She is not cheating on me! Mr. Reddington spoils all the dancers, not just Katarina." Isaak paused the anger rising in his chest. "You just want her back for your own sick desires."

"Please, Isaak, I hold no value for… used and damaged goods. Her body…" he cringed patting his stomach, "I want nothing to do with that!" Isaak lunged at Constantin at the implication that Katarina was any less beautiful after having their precious daughter. Constantin continued, "Calm down my boy, I am simply looking out for your best interests. I have no desire to bring either one of you back to Russia."

"You still have not proved that my wife has been cheating on me, not that you have any. She has never lied to me. And I trust her completely." Isaak said proudly.

"Ah, I see you have proven me right once again. You are as dumb and naive as you once were when I first took you in." Constantin opened the envelope and slowly placing one incriminating image after the next in front of Isaak; each of the photos showing Red with Carla and Katarina out and about the town. In one, the three of them were at a cafe having brunch, Red much to close to Katarina for Isaak's comfort. In another, it showed them in a dress shop, Red's arm around Katarina's waist and leaning in for what appeared to be a kiss or a whisper in the ear. Another had the four of them at dinner, but Red's arm was on the back of Katarina's chair. He had never even noticed it that night. More and more pictures were laid out before him to see, doubt, jealousy and rage began to explode within the trapped man. He never thought that she would yield to Red's advances. He hoped that after everything she'd been through with Constantin, she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Where did you get these, this garbage?" he growled.

"I see I have hit a nerve. This has been going on for sometime, I know because we have been watching you all from afar. We know of everything that has transpired over the last five years. Had it never occurred to you that Katarina became pregnant so quickly? She was sick for sometime before the theatre closed for remodel, correct? Almost… as if she may have already been with child before you and her…"

"STOP IT! I don't want to hear anymore of this! Katarina…" Isaak was brought to tears. He didn't want to believe what this sick and twisted man was telling him. It couldn't be true. His Mishka. And Mr. Reddington had been so good to them. We were never left wanting in any way. "... She would never cheat on me Constantin."

"Suit yourself boy. But the evidence is sitting right here in front of you, how can you possible ignore and dispute it? Why should Reddington be the one spoiling your wife? What if I could make it possible for you to being doing the spoiling, rather than him. What if I could give you all you need to far surpass anything Reddington could give her? You are losing her my boy and I have the means necessary for you to obtain your wife's love back." Constantin proposed.

Isaak sat back and contemplated. _What could this man possibly offer me that would allow me to get my Mishka back? Was he truly losing her?_

"What is it that you want from me in return Constantin? Deals like this are never one sided." Isaak said resigned.

"I see we may have the beginnings of a beautiful negotiation. I want to get to Reddington. I want to see him destroyed. Not just hurt financially, but physically. He has taken so much away from me. First Katarina, and now Anastasiya. You know she was murdered. The police ruled it a suicide, but I know it was Reddington, sending me a message." Constantin replied.

"What do I get outta this deal? Do we eliminate of you from our lives? Can we finally live in peace?"

"Of course. I will leave you to live your "American Dream" with your white picket fence. I guarantee not only your safety in the matter, but that of your family as well." Constantin said slyly.

"How exactly do you want me to "destroy" Mr. Reddington then. I assume you have a plan in mind." Isaak questioned.

"Ah, yes the details." Constantin motioned to his men to untie his captive. "Now let's get down to business. First and foremost, no one and I mean NO one is to know of this plan. If you truly wish to see your family unharmed, then you are not to speak a word of this to anyone. Not even your wife. Am I understood?"

Isaak nodded.

"Good. Well then, this will take place on closing night for _Swan Lake_. We have noticed that you have all but taken over for his previous stage manager. This puts you in the prime position to sabotage not only the stage, but the lighting as well. Just prior to intermission, you will take a pair of bolt cutters and cut the main lighting line. This will cause a small fire, but you will have just enough time to grab your wife and daughter and flee. By cutting the lights, it will allow you to get away undetected."

Isaak gasped. "But what about the rest of the cast and crew? What about the audience? How will this destroy Mr. Reddington?"

"All good questions. You must realize that there will always be collateral damages that unfortunately are out of anyone's control. Of course there will be subsequent injuries, hopefully no deaths, at least not to the patrons. I only desire for Reddington's ignominious death. The death of Reddington, and any others that night, will not only destroy him, but his name. No one attached to the Reddington name will stand a chance in the theatre world for years to come." Constantin finished his prideful speech and stood up, pulling out a gun and pointing it his captive. "What say you boy? Do we have deal?"

Isaak looked down the barrel of the gun, and swallowed hard. "And you can guarantee that my family and I will be safe. There will be no harm to the three of us?"

Constantin placed his armed hand to his chest, "You have my personal guarantee. I wouldn't be where I am today, if I didn't keep my promises." He motioned to have one of his men bring over a small duffel bag. "Would this be an adequate up front payment? I will provide you with the rest after the show." He started to pull out large stacks of bound hundred dollar bills.

Constantin provided Isaak with the address to a home in the countryside where the three of them would escape to after the deed had been done. The whole way home he racked his brain, trying to sort through all that had just transpired. He was being paid off to literally kill a man; the same man who rescued his wife from the abuse that Constantin had been inflicting on her for over a year. He convinced himself that it was all for her, his Mishka, and his precious little daughter.

Notes:

Russian translations:

Privet-Hi/Hello (informal)  
Po'shyol 'na hui-Fuck you (loosely)  
Net! NET!- No NO!


End file.
